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“I don't think I'm going to make it out of this alive, Steve.”
“Bucky… Don't say that. You don't mean that. We have to get through this.” Steve said into his radio, looking through the trees for a sign of Bucky, his gun at the ready.
“Steve, I'm cornered. I'm backed up against a cliff, hiding behind a bush with no ammo and the enemy is in front of me. They're getting closer and closer and they're going to shoot me as soon as they see me.”
“No, Bucky, I'm coming to get you!” Steve cried, firing his gun at an enemy that had come out of nowhere.
“Steve, be quiet, you're giving away my position.” Bucky whispered. “I think they're going away.”
Steve spun around, looking for the cliff. He spotted it and took off, keeping low as he ran through the trees. He hit the cliff and froze, unsure of whether to go left or right. He picked right and hoped for the best, slowing down as the voices of the enemy reached his ears.
“Fuck- Steve-” Bucky broke off into screams as the gunshots echoed all around, Bucky's voice coming from right up ahead.
“Bucky!” Steve burst out, sprinting towards him, all care for his own life gone in a second. He found Bucky lying half out of his bush, the enemy standing around and laughing. One of them aimed their gun and shot Steve in the leg. “Fuck!” Steve raised his own gun as they started running, expertly aiming and taking them all out.
“Steve.” Bucky croaked, pulling off his helmet as the bright red liquid spilling all over his chest.
“No, Bucky, you're gonna get through this. We're gonna get you help.” Steve whispered, taking off his own helmet before scooping Bucky up into his arms.
“Stevie, this really isn't necessary.”
“Shh, save your breath.” Steve grunted as he started trudging through the trees, limping on his injured leg. It took a minute but their base finally came into view. “Someone help! I need a medic!”
“What the hell do you think you're doing, Captain?”
“He needs a doctor! He's bleeding out!” Steve gasped, placing Bucky gently down onto a bench who, thankfully, was playing dead.
“Are you kidding me?” Fury raised an eyebrow at him, glancing down at Bucky's limp form.
“You said to be serious. If you think I won't drop everything to try and save Buck's life you've got another thing coming.” Steve grinned.
Bucky lifted his head and grinned as well. “Honestly, I don't know why you weren't prepared for this.”
“Lie down, you're dying.” Steve shushed him. “I need a doctor!”
“All right, Rogers, you're out. You and Barnes. Go clean that paint off of you.” Fury rolled his eyes, returning to the store.
Bucky took the hand Steve was offering and staggered to his feet. “You weren't being serious were you? You just wanted to be all dramatic for Fury. You wouldn't actually drop everything in a fight, right?”
“You're actually asking that?” Steve glanced at him as they walked into the gear room.
“Yes, Steve, I am. You can't go doing shit like that.” Bucky said seriously, dumping his helmet on the bench with his gun.
“Don't act like you wouldn't do the same for me.” Steve said, grabbing Bucky's hand and pulling him close. Bucky opened his mouth to say something but snapped it shut and smiled. “Exactly.”
“Whatever, man.” Bucky rolled his eyes. Steve slid his arms around Bucky's waist and kissed him lightly, holding him in place. He broke off the kiss and broke into a grin. “What?”
Steve shot Bucky in the chest, pulling a pained grunt out of him. “That's for even questioning whether I would drop everything.”
“I fucking hate you.”